


Christmas Morning

by allamaraine



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Christmas, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2805614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allamaraine/pseuds/allamaraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amanda is feeling homesick, but Sarek and Spock have prepared a Christmas surprise.</p><p>A Secret Santa gift for tumblr user captainkaltar!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Morning

The light of the alarm clock softly illuminated Amanda’s face as she stared at the glowing numbers. They told her the time, the Stardate, the date according to the traditional Vulcan calendar, and what day it was back in her hometown on Earth.

 

December twenty-fifth.

 

Amanda always felt the most homesick at this time of year. Vulcan holidays were impressive in their solemn beauty and she found a certain comfort in the strictly-observed ritualism, but they were no replacement for the jollity of the Christmas season. She had not been home for Christmas since before Spock was born, much to her parents’ dismay. Though they did their best to hide it, Amanda knew they had not approved of her marriage to Sarek, if only because it would take her so far away from the family. However, this did not stop them from making the journey to Vulcan at least once a year to coo over their stoic little grandson, who was never quite sure what to make of their affections. She wondered how he would react to his Human cousins and aunts and uncles when she eventually brought him to visit Earth.

 

Amanda sighed. It was no use. She was not going to be able to get back to sleep. Detangling herself from the sheets, she climbed out of bed and shuffled across the room to open the curtains. It was still another hour until the sun rose, but the distant mountain ridges were outlined in a golden-red. In all her travels, Amanda had yet to see a planet with better sunrises than Vulcan. In the mornings, if he was home, Sarek could usually be found meditating in the courtyard, facing the sun as it rose through the arches at the entrance to their home. Amanda would silently settle herself nearby with a cup of tea, admiring both the colors in the sky and the proudly handsome profile of her husband. It had become their own personal ritual. Spock soon joined them, learning proper meditation techniques as he sat up straight as a pin next to his father, occasionally allowing himself to peek over at Amanda, who would smile reassuringly. When they were finished meditating, Amanda would provide them with their own cups of tea and their day would begin.

 

Assuming that her boys were already outside, she headed for the kitchen to prepare the tea. Though Sarek had initially been resistant to Earth teas, he had quickly developed a fondness for green tea and found chamomile “acceptable” (As for ice tea – Amanda’s savior on this hot desert planet – that was and always would be an abomination to his sensibilities). Once she stepped into the hallway, however, she was surprised to hear quiet voices coming from the sitting room.

 

“Father, I do not understand. It seems most illogical to remove a perfectly healthy tree from the forest in order to place it inside one’s home instead.”

 

“Human traditions may not always make sense to you, Spock. Nevertheless, it is important that you respect them as much as you would our own.”

 

This piqued Amanda’s curiosity. Rounding the corner, she gasped at what she saw. Sarek and Spock were standing before a Christmas tree, a spruce that they got from who knows where, so large that there was barely room for the star on top. A strand of white lights had already been wrapped with careful precision around the tree. Sarek held a small box, the contents of which Spock was studying most intently. They both turned towards Amanda when she entered the room.

 

“Mother!” said Spock. Momentarily, his eyes widened with surprise before he corrected himself and his face settled back into its trained neutral position.

 

Sarek chose to ignore his son’s emotional reaction, simply saying to Amanda, “We believed you to be asleep.”

 

Amanda smiled. “I’m sorry to ruin your surprise.”

 

“You did not ruin it. To the contrary, you will be of great assistance. We were discussing the proper arrangement of these decorations. As you can see, we have already placed the star in its appropriate position. I am uncertain about the rest.”

 

“Well let’s see what we have here,” Amanda walked over to examine the ornaments. Seeing what the box contained, she exclaimed, “Oh!” The box was full of ornaments from her childhood: pictures of family members in brass photo frames, antique glass balls, handmade paper snowflakes and the more high-tech figurines that sang Christmas carols when a button was pressed. Her eyes threatened to well up with tears as she lovingly took a rather misshapen ornament out of the box. It was theoretically supposed to be a reindeer but Amanda never had been artistically gifted. She had made this ornament for her father when she was eight or nine years old.

 

“What sort of creature is that?” asked Spock, standing on his toes to get a closer look.

 

Amanda knelt down, giving the ornament to Spock. “His name is Rudolph, and he’s what’s called a reindeer.”

 

Spock scrunched up his brow as he inspected the ornament. “A reindeer?”

 

“They’re kind of like the antelope we see around here, but much bigger and with thick coats of fur, since they live in Earth’s northern regions.”

 

Spock gave a quick, short nod of understanding and then asked, “Why did you name him Rudolph?”

 

She explained about St. Nicholas, who became known as Santa in some cultures, and how it was believed he brought gifts to children on Christmas and about the reindeer that helped him. “There’s even a song about it: 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.'”

 

“Mother, would you sing it?” He was unsuccessful in keeping the eagerness out of his voice. Spock loved music of any kind, from Tellarite folk songs to Earth jazz, and was already proficient with the Vulcan lute. Amanda agreed to sing and he promptly sat cross-legged on the floor, back straight, hands in his lap, to indicate that he was receptive and listening. Sarek set down his box and listened attentively as well. As Amanda sang the short tune, Spock’s brow furrowed with confusion.

 

At the end of the song, he said, in perfect imitation of his father, “Illogical.”

 

Thinking he was objecting to the notion of a flying reindeer with a glowing nose, Sarek said, “Myths often contain improbable elements, such as weapons that grant the wielder a supernatural strength or animals capable of humanoid speech. This tale is no different.”

 

Spock shook his head. “But why do the other reindeer ignore Rudolph? I do not understand. Differences should be celebrated.” His lower lip quivered dangerously, and he clutched the reindeer ornament tightly in one fist. Though Amanda knew a proper Vulcan mother would never do such a thing, she immediately knelt and hugged her son. That trembling lip was tantamount to a distressed wail for a Vulcan and it broke her heart. What had always seemed like a fun and silly Christmas song now took on a new meaning for her, as the mother of a child whose differences stood out to his peers like as clearly as Rudolph’s blazing red nose.

 

She pulled out of the hug and gently cupped Spock’s face in her hands. He met her gaze steadily and with a deep breath, calmed himself. “You’re right, Spock. You’re absolutely right.” She looked up at Sarek, whom she knew was discomfited by this situation, even if his face remained impassive. “Infinite diversity in infinite combinations, remember?”

 

“That is correct. Your emotional outburst is unwarranted,” said Sarek. Amanda glared at him and he quickly added, “For the other reindeer soon learn the error of their ways.”

 

Amanda turned back to Spock, “You see, darling, what probably seemed like a curse to Rudolph ended up being his greatest gift.”

 

“I understand,” said Spock. Amanda wondered if he truly did, but for now, it was enough.

 

“Now, why don’t we finish decorating the tree, hmm?” she said.

 

Spock uncurled his fist, releasing Rudolph from his desperate grasp. He stood to examine the tree. “Where do I place it?”

 

“Wherever you like.” Spock thought about it for a moment before placing it as close to the center of the tree as he could reach.

 

“Perfect! Pick another one,” she said with a smile. Spock chose one of the paper snowflakes, which had her mother’s name written on the back in a childish scrawl. She looked at Sarek and nodded her head towards the box. Obligingly, he also chose an ornament, a shiny red ball, and hung it on the tree. As the three of them continued to decorate, Amanda began to softly sing her favorite Christmas song, “Winter Wonderland.”

 

When she finished, Sarek said, “Why do you not sing more often? Your voice is most pleasant.”

 

Amanda side-eyed him. “I thought Vulcans didn’t lie.”

 

“We do not. I am sure our son agrees with me.”

 

“Yes, Mother, please sing the song again!”

 

“Two votes to one,” said Sarek, “The decision is clear.”

 

Amanda laughed. Her Human friends were skeptical whenever she insisted that her husband did have a sense of humor. Little did they know how alarming his comments could sometimes be to other Vulcans. She threw up her hands in surrender. “All right, all right, I see that I am outnumbered. But I’ll agree on only one condition: Spock must join with me this time.”

 

“That is agreeable,” said Spock. Undoubtedly he had already memorized it the first time around.

 

“Indeed,” said Sarek. He held out his hand to her, with his forefinger and index finger extended together. Mimicking his pose, she pressed her fingers to his. “Thank you,” she whispered.

 

“What is the appropriate Human phrase again? Cheery Christmas?”

 

Amanda grinned and kissed him on the cheek, “Close enough.” He blushed the slightest of green.

 

A tinkling noise suddenly arose. Spock held up an ornament shaped like a Victorian horse sleigh, complete with Clydesdales and a couple all bundled up in ear muffs and mittens. Spock had pressed a button on the underside, which made it sound as if sleigh bells were jingling before transitioning over into “Winter Wonderland.” He hung it on the tree and began to sing with his mother as the rising sun poured its light into the room.

 

There was no place else in the galaxy Amanda would rather be.


End file.
